Steve was the more agile of the two and circled rapidly around, striking like a boxer.
Every time his face came into view, with set teeth and ferocious scowl, the boys' spirits fell.

But when they saw the calm, determined eyes of Lime, his watchful, confident look, they grew assured.

All depended upon him.

The Nagle gang were like wolves in their growing ferocity, and as they outnumbered the other party two to one, it was a critical quarter of an hour.

In a swift retrospect they remembered the frightful tales told of this very spot--of the killing of Lars Peterson and his brother Nels, and the brutal hammering a crowd of drunken men had given to Big Ole, of the Wapsy.
The blood was trickling down Lime's face from a cut on his cheek, but Steve's face was swollen and ghastly from the three blows which he had received.